Flight of Fancy
by mbueno
Summary: A peek into Desmond's mind as he spends time between Animus sessions in Monteriggioni.


**A/N:** Kinda pointless little fic (because I love Des-des). I might've gotten stuff wrong so apologies in advance.

**Warnings**: bad spelling/grammar, OOC, stuff

**Characters**: Desmond, Lucy, Rebecca, Shaun (Ezio, Altaïr)

**Disclaimer**: don't own

**-Flight of Fancy-**

He was restless.

It was their second week in Villa Monteriggioni and he'd just gotten out of the animus to get something to eat. Rebecca was doing something with her Baby and Shaun was over at his own desk muttering something under his breath. Desmond wasn't sure if he was doing research for Ezio or something for the other teams. Lucy was nowhere to be seen and he wondered where she was and what she was doing.

He was restless.

He looked at the corridor that led out of the cave they'd holed themselves in. It was still dark outside and the sun wouldn't rise for a couple of hours yet. Making his decision he got up and strode determinedly towards the tiny bit of freedom he was allowed to have here.

Prowling the rooftops of Monteriggioni had become a nightly ritual to him. It felt good to run to his heart's content and leap almost recklessly from one rooftop to another. Sometimes he wondered if the people asleep below him heard the faint clinks of the tiles shifting beneath his feet. It brought a little relief but sometimes it wasn't enough. He needed to climb higher. He needed to fly.

The highest point of Monteriggioni was on top of the villa. As part of his nightly ritual, Desmond would always end up there before sunrise and watch the slowly lightening sky until a voice in his ear told him to come back before the dawn broke.

He'd found the feather box on the roof and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how it could be there, still recognizable five hundred years after its owner had passed away. It wasn't the first thing he'd found from his… _Ezio's_ past either. The first had been the accounting book Claudia had left behind. When he'd first seen it he couldn't believe it was what he thought it was. None of the others had paid it any attention and Desmond hadn't felt the need to mention it. He'd just picked it up and traced the slightly slanted letters his sis- _Ezio's_ sister had written down so many years ago.

He'd found the sword purely by accident. Whenever he was out running over the rooftops like a demented monkey (thank you, Shaun, for that comment) his feet rarely touched the ground. But as it was he'd misjudged a jump and ended up smacking his face against a building and hanging onto the edge of the roof with his fingertips. Figuring that it would be easier to just fall down and then find an easier way to climb back up he'd released his hold and dropped down. He'd very nearly fallen on top of the damned thing. At first he hadn't been sure what it was, but something in him recognized the sword and knew who it had belonged to. So he'd taken it back as well and it was now on the previously empty shelf that he'd claimed as his own along with the feather box and the accounting book. If the others thought anything of his odd collection they said nothing and neither did their emails.

He'd found the cloak in the church and he was starting to feel slightly paranoid about that. Why was it there? Could it actually be the same cape he- _Ezio_ had worn back then? It couldn't be, he decided even as he tucked the folded cloth under his arm, surely the fabric would've rotted away ages ago and this was merely a clever replica. It, nevertheless, ended up on the shelf with the other items from a past that wasn't his.

The last thing he found made him feel nauseous. It was ridiculous, really, he thought as he looked at the thing glinting silver in the faint light of the half-moon. He'd been prowling the rooftops again and his foot had gotten caught in the damned thing and he'd nearly had a fall that would've probably broken his neck. Metal survived long periods of time, he knew, and leather was durable, but even then the thing shouldn't be in as good condition as it was if it had been left outside like this for five hundred years. Yes. There was no way something like this would be here, untouched and undisturbed for five hundred years. Someone had left it there and that same someone probably wouldn't be surprised to find it gone come morning.

He took it anyway.

As he walked towards the villa again he switched to eagle vision and looked at the red trail. He'd first noticed it the second time he'd been running about. The sight of it made him uneasy and especially so after he'd read the mail about the unmarked white van even though he knew it probably had nothing to do with it. The trail was old but it still gave off an uneasy air and Desmond didn't like that way it ended at the door to their hideout. Seeing red through eagle vision was never going to feel right.

But there was only so much he could do in the tiny space they allowed him. The village was small and even the top of the villa didn't feel high enough. Not after the places he'd climbed as Altaïr and Ezio. He wanted to climb higher and higher until it felt like he could touch the sky. Rationally, he knew that the towers of ancient Firenze, Roma or Jerusalem weren't anything when compared to modern skyscrapers, but to him they were amazing.

He missed the feeling of rough brick and stone under his hands, the strain of his muscles as he pulled himself up towards the sky little by little. The sense of accomplishment as he reached the top of the tower and the world was spread out before him. But even more than that, he missed the feeling of flight.

Technically, it wasn't flight so much as it was freefalling but Desmond didn't care about that. Not even the feeling of gliding in the air using Leonardo's flying machine compared to the feeling of jumping off a platform at a ridiculous height. The distance between the platform and the pile of hay that was the only thing between Ezio and sudden death, felt like pure freedom.

Unfortunately, the modern world was short on convenient piles of hay and, anyway, jumping off the villa was hardly worth it. But… Desmond stood up and walked to the other side of the roof that faced the sheer cliff. The hole in the fence had been fixed by someone, he didn't know who, but it wouldn't be a problem to climb over the fence. There was the pile of hay he'd jumped into when they'd first arrived here, when he'd been following Ezio's ghost. As far as falls went it wasn't that high but it was _something_ at least.

"Desmond. It's almost morning," the voice in his ear said suddenly.

He realized that Rebecca was right. It wouldn't be long before the sun would start to peek over the horizon. After a moment of hesitation he grinned coming to a decision. The sun wasn't up yet which meant he still had time. Besides, now that they'd gone through the underground passage once he should be able to make it through alone. It would be good exercise. After all, he wouldn't be of much use even with the skills he was picking up from Ezio if his body wasn't in good enough condition to pull them off, right? He climbed down from his perch at the top of the villa and walked to the place where the tape and chicken wire were covering the hole in the fence.

He'd just climbed over the obstacle and was standing at the edge of the drop when he heard someone behind him. Apparently he'd taken too long and they'd decided to send someone out to get him.

"What do you think you're do-" Shaun's words were lost to the wind as Desmond jumped smiling.

For a few precious seconds the only thing he felt was the heady freedom of the fall and then he hit the hay. He could hear a few curses echoing from above where Shaun was probably cursing him to hell and back. He didn't care, though, and as he stood up and brushed the excess hay off his shirt he merely grinned and waved at the irate man glaring at him from the ledge.

"I'm coming in from down here," he said knowing the earpiece would transmit his words to the others. "See you in a bit."

He though he saw Shawn make a gesture that was like the victory sign but backwards and answered it cheerfully with a one fingered salute before disappearing into the dark.

It was nice scaling the crumbling underground passage. Not as nice as falling from a great height, of course, but still a nice change of pace. He was glad he didn't have to take a dip in the still water this time as he didn't exactly have that many clothes and washing what he had was a risk, as silly as it sounded. As he jumped over dark depths he wondered if maybe he could come here more often. It was more challenging than running around the village even if he could see more ghosts here.

He was getting used to the pale blue shapes that sometimes passed him by. He knew enough to not let his eyes linger on them for too long when the others were present, though he knew Lucy knew he saw them. But he didn't want the others asking questions, not after he'd gone snooping through their emails and found out that he apparently screamed at night. Normally that would've made him feel embarrassed but now it only made him feel nauseous. He was losing control of his own life so fast it wasn't even funny. Telling himself that he was helping the Assassin's willingly this time wasn't helping much.

"Desmond," the voice in his ear said crackling a little because of his location.

He realized he'd stopped and had been crouched on top of a creaky beam. It was far too easy for him to get caught up in his own –and other's- thoughts now. He'd been careful to monitor his own thoughts recently, to make sure it was Desmond thinking them and not Altaïr or Ezio.

"What?" he asked resuming his climb.

"Lucy's pretty upset with you," it was Rebecca and she didn't sound that cross with him so he wasn't too worried.

"Why?" he asked though he knew exactly why. "I'm just training."

His time in the animus might have given him a quick course of the assassin's way but that didn't mean his body was instantly capable of doing everything he'd learned. Of course, his nightly runs had already helped immensely and the underground route barely winded him. Despite running away from his 'destiny' years ago and letting himself fall into a false sense of security, he'd never quite given up the paranoia and had kept himself reasonably fit. Not that it had helped him when Abstergo came knocking...

"Nice try," Rebecca said sounding amused. "Shaun told me what you did."

What he'd done? He'd jumped but he'd done that before. He knew how to land safely from a fall like that.

"What did I do?" he asked pausing where he was balanced over one of the bridge replacements Lucy had lowered for him.

There was a certain sense of satisfaction in doing it; the rickety wood the only thing between him and almost certain death should his balance fail him. One of the things that he liked most about reliving Ezio's memories apart from the climbing, were the times when he'd traverse through the convoluted pathways of the assassin's tombs or the Romulus lairs. In fact, during his last animus session he'd just found the Romulus lair in Palazzo Laterano. He'd only need two more keys before he'd get the treasure in the lair near Colosseo. Before _Ezio _would get the treasure, he reminded himself firmly almost missing Rebecca's reply.

"You jumped," she said. "I know you've done it before but Lucy thinks you shouldn't do it unless there's someone there with you to see you won't kill yourself."

What was he, a baby? Lucy of all people should know just how unlikely it would be for him to misjudge a jump like that. The bits of Ezio and Altaïr in his head would never allow for a mistake like that to happen. And part of hazy memories from his time at the farm told him that even back then he would've never misjudged a jump like that.

"I'll be up soon," he just said not wanting to continue the conversation.

The sense of freedom he'd gained from his impromptu flight was already fading and he knew that unless he'd manage to talk Lucy around it he wouldn't be able to do it again anytime soon. The part of him that was Altaïr bristled at having to listen to someone else's orders like that but he didn't pay it much attention. Despite the fact that he looked a lot like his ancestors their personalities weren't anything like his, which wasn't really that surprising considering that they lived in completely different times and cultures.

He sighed and continued his climb. The joy of it was almost gone now and the familiar feeling of dread was back in the back of his mind.

He'd lived with fear for most of his life. The Farm had instilled the constant sense of paranoia in him from a young age and it was impossible to get rid of it.

The Templars control everything.

The Templars are your enemies.

You must train to become an Assassin to safeguard mankind's free will.

It had been nonsense, most of it, to the young Desmond who'd wanted nothing more than to be normal and do everything he wasn't allowed to do. But even when he'd run away and become Desmond the bartender that paranoia hadn't left him and he'd kept changing cities and never used his real name until that one time that got him captured by Abstergo.

Even if he'd been freed from the grasp of Abstergo and Vidic that still didn't mean the fear was gone. He knew that even though he didn't really like being an assassin they were the only ones who could stop whatever was going to happen in just a bit over two months. And he didn't like it that it was starting to look more and more like someone was conspiring on making him 'save the world'.

He hated it.

He hated it that the woman (could he even call her a 'woman'?) Ezio had seen in Vatican had seemed to decide centuries ago that it was Desmond's job to do what they told him to do. Even if it was the only way to save the world or humans or whatever, a part of Desmond couldn't help but point out that it was in direct opposition of what the Assassin's stood for.

Free will.

Wasn't some predestined fate against the pure concept of free will?

Desmond sighed and shook his head to clear his thoughts. It wasn't a good idea to get distracted by some abstract thoughts while his very physical body was dangling at height that would kill him if he accidentally let go. He purposefully let his mind go blank and concentrated on the climbing and jumping instead. This was his fun time so he was going to enjoy it, damnit.

Unfortunately, his fun was rather short lived since moving slower than he had to would've defeated the whole point of the exercise. He was half tempted to go back once and do it again but Lucy was already going to chew him out for this and he was starting to feel kind of tired so maybe it was best he didn't.

As he slunk out from behind the statue of Altaïr he wasn't surprised to see Lucy give him a stern look. Rebecca just shrugged sympathetically and Shaun gave him a quick look that said it was all his own fault before turning back to his wall of history. Ah, what friends he had...

"Desmond..." Lucy said her tone enough of a warning by itself.

"Sorry," he said. "I was feeling a bit restless and thought more training couldn't hurt."

More like he was feeling caged in. It occurred to him that maybe he'd never been truly free in his entire life except for those moments he'd spent as Ezio or Altaïr. It was a depressing thought. He didn't really want to experience life through his ancestors. Especially not when he knew the ultimate cost for that could be ridiculously high.

"You know you're too important to our cause to go out on your own like that," the blonde woman said.

She sounded tired and Desmond felt slightly guilty for not realizing that this running and hiding was affecting her and the others too. But he'd never really had to take others into consideration before. Not like this, at least. His years of running had taught him to emulate normal human behaviour but most of the time he was only concerned with himself. He wasn't as bad as Altaïr had been in the beginning but...

"Sorry," he said again and tried to look repentant.

She gave him a look that said she saw right through him and sighed.

"Just don't do it again. We're already endangering a lot by allowing you your nightly runs outside," she said and turned back to her computer.

'Don't make us chain you down even more' was what she meant.

They were good people, his little team. Rebecca might be a bit zany but she was a genius with the Animus and other things mechanical. Shaun might be a huge prick but the amount of knowledge he had crammed in his head and that computer of his were immensely helpful and Desmond was quite impressed. He knew Shaun thought he was every bit the stereotypical stupid American and Desmond had never had the heart to tell him that his schooling had been erratic at best which led to kind of huge gaps in his knowledge. Lucy was a bit uptight and abrupt sometimes but he knew she was just doing what she thought was necessary and doing it with much more consideration to him than she really needed to. He owed her his life, after all, so it was within her rights to not give him as many passes as she already did.

He liked them, he really did, and they were maybe the closest things to actual friends he'd had. But that didn't mean he didn't wish he could be somewhere else doing something else. Didn't stop that childish part of him from whining about why it had to be _him_ that had to stop the end of the world or whatever.

"You should get some sleep," Lucy said. "We'll wake you up when it's time for you to go to the Animus again."

The Animus... Desmond had mixed feelings about the seemingly innocent machine that messed up his head more and more each time he sat down on the plush red seat.

"We're almost there, Desmond. It shouldn't take much longer," Rebecca said. "Lucy's right. You look kind of horrible so get some sleep."

Desmond smiled at her and decided that their idea was a good one. As he passed Shaun on his way to his sleeping bag he heard the Brit mutter something about useless Americans who spent most of their day asleep he just rolled his eyes. At first, Shaun's attitude had really gotten on his nerves and made him defensive but it seemed that he'd mellowed out a little during the time Desmond had spent with the team. It didn't mean he still didn't get pissed off at some of the comments he made but at least Shaun wasn't a raging dick all the time now and actually answered Desmond's seemingly stupid questions.

As he shed his hoodie and cocooned himself in the sleeping bag he wondered what would happen once they were through with Ezio's memories. What would it change? Would they finally do something concrete about the modern Templars or would they look for another ancestor of his? Would they finally find the Apple? If they did what would it change?

And more importantly would they get to the end before he started painting the walls with red like Subject 16? He knew Lucy kept repeating that they didn't keep him in the Animus nearly as much as Subject 16 but Desmond had a feeling the Bleeding Effect was setting in faster than Lucy had calculated. She also seemed more concerned with the good things that came with it, the assassin skills, rather than the negative side of hallucinations and dreams so real that it took a few minutes after waking up to remind himself that he was Desmond and not someone who'd died long ago.

Despite being tired he was feeling restless again.

The moment he fell asleep he opened his eyes in ancient Jerusalem and the part of the dream that was Desmond smiled. There was a tall tower not too far away with nice handholds and a wall that wasn't in line of sight to any of the guards patrolling on the rooftops.

He was going to fly again.

**xxx**

Lucy had noted that Desmond was a restless sleeper. He sometimes twitched and mumbled things under his breath in his sleep. More often than not, these days, the words she could make out were in Arabic or Italian. It worried her but she knew there was little she could do about it. Worse than the muttered phrases or words were the screams. Apart from the email she'd sent, however, no one had mentioned them though she knew that everyone, except Desmond, had heard them.

She sometimes wondered if the others thought she was heartless for going forward with a plan that had already driven so many other people over the edge. But they needed Desmond and they needed Ezio's memories. They needed the Apple and every single advantage they could get over the Templars.

Maybe that was why she'd let the man off so lightly for his insubordination. He knew Desmond wasn't used to being cooped up like this. She'd read the things the people at the Farm had written about him and his restlessness there and then the attempts to escape. As it was, he was taking his 'captivity' with surprising calmness. At least he wasn't going around pick pocketing people and hacking into their emails like he'd done at Abstergo.

"He's pretty calm now," Rebecca commented.

The other woman had made them both a cup of tea and was now leaning against the table.

"I think the run down there did him good," she continued.

"Perhaps but it was still a stupid thing to do," Lucy said. "What if he'd seriously injured himself or even died down there?"

"Then maybe you should go with him next time," Rebecca suggested. "It might do you some good as well."

Maybe she would. It had been fun the previous time and she supposed it was good practise for Desmond as well. Back in the old hideout Desmond had spent a lot of time in the warehouse after he'd completed Lucy's training. Shaun had taken to calling him a monkey which had led to some rather childish arguments. But it had also gotten rid of the slightly stressed look on Desmond's face after extended Animus sessions.

"Well, I'm going to get some sleep and you should too. We're no good to anyone dead tired. Shaun's taking the first watch," Rebecca continued.

"I guess I need to sleep," she admitted pressing her palms against her tired eyes. "I'll see about taking him down to play sometime later this week."

As she walked to where her and Rebecca's sleeping bags were she glanced at the bartender turned assassin and couldn't help but wonder why he looked so relaxed now when he was usually such a restless sleeper. If it really helped him that much just to run around then maybe she should allow it. He had gotten a lot better as the Bleeding effect worked its magic but the downside to it was that if he overdid it, it was entirely possible for Desmond to start seeing things that weren't there anymore. Maybe coming to this place wasn't such a good idea considering how much time Desmond was spending in Ezio's memories.

But she could think of all that later. They still had some time left, after all, and she had no intention of letting her team die if she could do something to stop it. Even if it killed her.

**END**

**End A/N**: I get the feeling my interpretation of Desmond is prolly not the standard but it was fun writing this anyway. Can't wait for Revelations to see what happens next. OuO


End file.
